sizzle
by Laughter's Tears
Summary: Not every romance is a fairy-tale. Some are like matches, bright and beautiful when lit, but ultimately fizzle and die. What happens when the past comes back for a visit? What happens after goodbye? Something short and bittersweet about failed relationships and what-ifs.


so this one has been sitting around for a while. It was born out of an impulse to write about what would happen after a failed relationship. Not all romances have fairy-tale endings, but that doesn't mean that the story is over.

* * *

She always smoked on the roof.

It was a trait leftover from a short and secret period in her life that had ended a long time ago. All that she had left of that glorious year of hiding were the memories, an unused phone number for an antique store, her nicotine addiction, and a gun permit. The last two were picked up after that year came crashing to an end and she had to cope with and survive in the larger world she'd had her eyes opened to. Funny thing was, she'd never been on a rooftop until she started smoking.

"I didn't know you smoked."

After seven years that voice was still easy to recognize. She closed her eyes, trying to banish the memories that threatened to overwhelm her now that they stood before her in living flesh.

"I guess I've changed." She said, managing to keep the emotion out of her voice.

"Yeah. I guess you have." He said, stepping out of the silent black shadows and into grayer whispering ones near the light of the bulb mounted above the roof access door. They stood in silence for the longest time. Everything she'd ever wanted to say in this moment suddenly sounded stupid.

"How are they?" she asked. She was dying to know. She'd almost picked up the phone more times than she could count. Especially after watching the news. Her husband didn't understand why some of the tiny stories or bulletins tacked onto the end of reports could get her so worked up, or why she always bought tabloids that had reports of sightings in the sewers. She let him believe it was an endearing quirk.

"Fine mostly. We've had close shaves here and there, but that's nothing new. Casey and April are getting married."

"Congratulations." She said. And she meant it.

"I see you've done the same. Gotten married I mean." he indicated the ring on her finger.

"Hm? Oh. Yeah."

"He's a lucky man. Congratulations."

"Thank you."

And there was silence once more as she finished her cigarette.

"I didn't want to leave, you know." she said as she crushed the butt under her heel. "I wanted it to work, I really did."

"I know. I did too." he said.

_'Then why didn't you ask me to stay?' _"Then what are you doing here tonight?" she asked softly.

"I… I don't really know." he faltered.

She frowned, anger rising up. "I've moved on. I'm married." She began to rant. "I have a husband. I have a life. And no matter how much I want-" shocked, she cut herself off, afraid of what she was about to say.

He leaned forward, the barest glimmer of hope in his eyes, illuminating the shadows. "Yes? Want what?"

She shook her head. "No. No, I don't. I can't. Even if I wasn't married we decided that it didn't work, remember?"

"You decided." He 'harumphed'.

"And you agreed, remember? You said that we had 'grown apart'. And that I 'wasn't cut out for your kind of life'. If it was true then, it's doubly true now. Not to mention wrong. So, for real this time, what are you doing here?"

"I don't know. I'm just a figment of your imagination." And with that he faded away into the shadows.

She pulled a piece of paper from her pocket.

_Miss April O'Neil and Mr. Arnold Casey Jones, together with their families, request your presence at their marriage… _

_Please RSVP_

She didn't even know how they had gotten her current address. Actually, she did. It made her uneasy thinking about where Donatello could have traced it from, but she knew _how_ April had gotten it. Slowly, she pulled a cell phone from her pocket. It was a rather ordinary phone. There were days when she almost slipped and called it her shell-cell, but this was just an ordinary bought-and-paid-for phone that she was billed for every month. She pulled up the number from her contact list: 'Second Time Around'.

A woman she hadn't spoken to in years picked up when she dialed.

"Hello, April? It's Lauren. I'm calling about the wedding invitation you sent, congratulations by the way…"

* * *

I didn't really have a particular turtle in mind when i wrote this, so you can just roll with whoever you imagined in there. I know this one was a little weird, but thanks for bearing with me and reading it anyways.


End file.
